


Ration, Undergrowth - Continued

by AliciaSinCiudad



Category: Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016)
Genre: Angst, I didn't start this fic, M/M, Mutual Pining, This one follows directly from it, You should read Munnin's fic first, also poor wedginald, and also to cassian's parka, because i'm nothing if not predictable, can't catch a break, foraging for food, i'll probably sneak a reference to chocolate in here at some point
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-18
Updated: 2018-03-20
Packaged: 2019-04-04 01:03:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,670
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14008773
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AliciaSinCiudad/pseuds/AliciaSinCiudad
Summary: Continuing from Munnin's short fic,Ration, Undergrowth, Cassian watches Bodhi find his place in the rebellion, using the catalyst of good food. Both are bad at communicating feelings, and mutual pining ensues.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Prompt - ration, undergrowth](https://archiveofourown.org/works/9692150) by [Munnin](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Munnin/pseuds/Munnin). 



> Continues directly from Munnin's short fic. Read that first.
> 
> Thanks to glad_er for beta-ing!

Cassian refrained from eating the stew. He claimed it was _just in case_ – in case Bodhi got something wrong, in case there was some sort of unforeseen impurity, in case someone had an allergic reaction. A smaller part of him admitted he was afraid it wouldn’t be perfect – although, he knew, it didn’t really matter if it was perfect or not. It couldn’t possibly be worse than the rations, and based on everyone’s reactions, it really was quite good. Even if it were absolutely terrible, though, it wouldn’t have brought Bodhi down in Cassian’s estimation, not really. Cassian was much too far gone for that.

Cassian wouldn’t admit it to himself, but the real reason he didn’t eat anything was that he didn’t think he deserved something wonderful. Certainly not from Bodhi. So he observed. He was good at that.

Cassian saw that Bodhi wasn’t basking in the attention. He knew Bodhi well enough to know he hadn’t done it for that. He’d probably just started foraging to have something to do, and when he realized he could be useful to others, he’d done just that. He shrugged off all compliments, repeating that the stew had been a group effort, even though it was obvious that the stew would not have tasted as good without Bodhi’s direction. After all, there was a reason people said that “too many captains destroy a platoon.” Bodhi may not have chopped every root, but he’d choreographed the cooking process, and the results appeared to be amazing.

Regardless, Cassian was content to watch. At least, so he told himself.

Normally, Cassian was aware enough of his surroundings to notice when someone else was observing him. But his thoughts were elsewhere at the moment. So he didn’t realize he was being observed by two older men, one watching him with tired eyes, the other listening and sensing. They didn’t have to exchange a single word to know what the other was feeling – from one, disappointment and resignation, and from the other, hope.

 

 

The next day at breakfast, Cassian tried not to mind when Bodhi, rather than shyly asking to sit near him as he usually did, was immediately surrounded by his new friends. Cassian was glad that Bodhi had found his place in the rebellion, and so quickly. He deserved these new friends, and the accompanying feeling of camaraderie and stability.

Again, Cassian was content to watch. Really, he was.

And if Jyn joined the others near Bodhi, that was fine, too. She deserved to feel at home here. Cassian could eat quickly and get back to discussing strategy with K-2. Eating was just a physical mechanism to keep himself going. He’d gotten along fine without organic friends before, and if he’d briefly thought that he had new friends, well, now he knew better.

As he chewed the stale bread, he tried not to imagine how the stew had tasted the night before.

 

 

At breakfast, Bodhi found himself surrounded by his new friends. He enjoyed the company, for the most part, but it also made him nervous. He was just waiting for it to all fade away. Gradually, if he was lucky. Abruptly, if he wasn’t. After all, it wasn’t _him_ that the other Rebels liked anyway. They were just in a good mood because of the stew from the night before. Now that he’d given people the idea, he wasn’t actually necessary anymore for it to become a tradition. So his popularity was clearly only temporary, and he shouldn’t get too used to it.

The truth was, being surrounded by so many friendly comrades was a little overwhelming. He would have felt more comfortable sitting with just one or two people. Galen’s daughter, for example. And… But he couldn’t keep relying on Captain Andor forever. The Captain had better things to do than to calm a lost and frazzled Imperial defector. Now that Bodhi didn’t absolutely need the Captain, he should just leave the man alone. He ought to be grateful Galen’s daughter had joined him, and stop wishing for more.

He glanced over, and noticed the Captain observing him. The Captain gave a terse smile, which Bodhi nervously returned. Then Andor turned away, and Bodhi did the same.

Did Andor not trust Bodhi? Bodhi had thought he’d earned his trust back on Jedha, then later on Eadu, and on Scarif. But something must have changed, because the Captain hadn’t eaten the stew the night before. In fact, he’d been the only one in the camp not to eat it. Bodhi had waited all evening for him to approach the cauldron, but he’d never come for so much as a single bite. So Bodhi should not have been surprised by the other man’s serious expression.

There were other indications that the Captain didn’t trust him. He’d started calling him _Rook_ , for example, and sometimes _Private Rook_ , or even just _Private_ , even though they’d used first names before Scarif. It had shaken Bodhi, this sudden formality. But it had been helpful, too. It reminded him not to get too comfortable.

Bodhi had followed the other man’s example, calling Cassian _Captain_ , and Jyn _Galen’s daughter_. He couldn’t bring himself to call her _Erso_. It reminded him too much of the kind older man who had sent him on this mission, the man responsible for the Death Star’s creation and destruction, for Bodhi’s torture and salvation. That name was wrapped up in so many overwhelming feelings, Bodhi couldn’t bring himself to use it for someone so completely different – fiercely passionate where Galen had been coldly pragmatic, openly self-preserving where Galen had hidden behind the excuse of protecting an estranged daughter.

Only Baze and Chirrut he continued to call by their first names – he couldn’t bring himself to distance himself from possibly the only other NiJedhans still alive. And the two of them seemed to trust him back. Galen’s daughter, too, seemed to trust him, as far as she trusted anyone. But Cassian – _Captain Andor_ – was always watching him, like prey watches a nearby predator. He was probably suspicious that Bodhi was trying to win the Rebels over, only to later betray them.

Bodhi wondered how he could prove that theory wrong. But the truth was, he really didn’t have much to offer the Rebellion. He’d already delivered the message from Galen. He’d led the Rebellion to Eadu – with less than stellar results. He’d helped get Andor and Galen’s daughter to Scarif, but they’d been the ones to transmit the Death Star plans back to Base. And now he’d given people the idea to scavenge for more interesting food. That was pretty much all he had. The Captain was probably right to distrust him. If Bodhi kept his head down, though, maybe he’d be able to fit in with the others. At least for a little while.

 

 

That evening, a pilot named Antilles asked Bodhi if he was going foraging again, and Bodhi confirmed that he was. He’d been planning on going alone, but he didn’t want to come off as rude, so when Antilles asked to go with him, Bodhi just shrugged. Antilles said that he knew where a clump of trees grew, and wondered if their fruits were edible. Maybe Bodhi could help him figure out what they were? Bodhi nodded, and off the two went.

Antilles seemed nervous, and he kept close to Bodhi. Bodhi wondered if the other pilot felt insecure walking in the jungle on his own. That seemed unlikely, though, since he already knew about the trees they were going to. He must have gone this route before, and probably on his own, too.

Suddenly it occurred to Bodhi that there might an ambush waiting for him, and that was why Antilles was so nervous. He tensed. Should he make a run for it? If the camp was against him, though, where would he go? He continued to follow Antilles, but he felt in his jacket pocket for his vibro-blade, just to reassure himself.

Eventually, though, they did arrive at a clump of trees, and there didn’t seem to be anyone waiting for them, hostile or otherwise. Antilles pointed at the deep red-brown fruit.

“Are they edible?” he asked.

Bodhi shrugged. “I don’t know. I’ll look them up, though.” He pulled out his data-pad. After a moment, he was able to identify them. He cross-checked on a couple different databases, checking appearance of the tree’s bark and leaves as well as the fruit, and they all confirmed it. “Gor apple,” he read. “They should be edible, with a pleasant taste. Sweet, tart, and just the slightest bit spicy.”

Antilles plucked one from a tree. “Here goes nothing,” he said with a nervous grin, and took a bite. The shaky grin widened into a genuine smile, and he licked the juice from his lips. “It’s delicious. And just like you said: sweet, tart, and a little bit spicy. Want to try?”

Bodhi nodded, and Antilles held out the fruit he’d bitten from. Bodhi closed his eyes and took a bite. It was delicious, like nothing he’d ever eaten. He grinned, and saw Antilles smile even wider in response. He looked as though he were going to say something, and Bodhi leaned towards him instinctively. Antilles’s eyes widened, and he suddenly pulled away.

“Let’s, uh, let’s bring some back,” he stuttered. “To the base. Pass them around. Sound good?”

Bodhi nodded, trying not to show how taken aback he was. He just couldn’t read this man. Was he hiding something, or just mistrustful of an ex-Imperial newcomer? “Sure, sounds good,” he replied. Together, they filled a bag Antilles had brought for that purpose, and headed back. Antilles hardly talked the entire walk back to Base, so Bodhi just concentrated on trying to memorize the path.

Outside the Temple, Bodhi noticed Captain Andor, watching silently, as usual. Bodhi reddened. Why did no one trust him around here? He knew the answer, he really did, but how much longer would he have to prove himself? He reached into the bag, pulled out a particularly ruby-glowing fruit, and held it up to the Captain. “Want one? They’re good.”

The Captain shook his head, unsmiling. “I’ve just eaten supper, thank you.” He paused. “You shouldn’t go off without telling someone, you know. If something had happened to you two, no one would have known where to find you, or even to be looking.” Then he walked away, before Bodhi could even think of a reply.

Bodhi frowned. Sometimes he felt like the rebels were no warmer than the Imperial officers who had made Bodhi’s life such torture. Then Antilles took his hand, understanding in his eyes. “Hey, Bodhi. I’m glad you came out with me.”

Bodhi smiled shyly. “Thanks, Wedge,” he said, trying out the first name. Antilles did not seem offended, and Bodhi felt a wave of relief wash over him. “I’m glad, too.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Kay tries, and partially succeeds, at talking some sense into Cassian.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks again to glad_er to beta-reading! And to jordanriver for... gamma-ing?

The next evening, Cassian didn’t bother with the mess hall, instead going straight to his quarters after physical training. He found K-2 sitting on his bed, arms crossed, looking as close to annoyed as a droid could look. “Don’t bother taking your boots off, Cassian. You’re checking into the med-bay before you retire.”

“Med-bay? Why?”

Kay focused his ocular sensors on Cassian. He said nothing, somehow managing to make the silence seem both sarcastic and unimpressed.

Cassian looked away. “Kay, I’m fine.”

Kay’s sensors glowed. “Fine? If by _fine_ you mean _barely holding it together._ Although, given the way you usually use that word, perhaps that _is_ what you think it means.”

Cassian rolled his eyes. “Barely holding it together,” he scoffed. “Save the dramatics for a holodrama.”

“Cassian Jerón Andor, you may be able to fool organics and other lower-level sentients, but you should know better than to think you can fool _me_. You have been avoiding food – not only the scavenged food, but the regular rations from the mess-hall as well. You’re as pale as milkstone, and your weight has decreased by 3.9% in the past week alone. Even your heart-beat is more irregular than usual.”

“ _More_ irregular?” At this, Cassian’s heart did speed up.

“Surely you know that you’ve had an irregular heart-beat for years.” Kay paused. “Did you really not notice? I forget sometimes, how obtuse you organics are. No offense, of course.”

“None taken,” Cassian muttered.

“I apologize, Cassian. I would have mentioned it earlier, if I had realized you were unaware.”

Cassian just shrugged. “I’m sure it’s normal, Kay. All humans have variations in heart-rate.”

“Of course.” Kay usually knew when Cassian was lying, but he also knew him well enough not to push it. “In any case, your homeostasis is abysmal right now, even by your standards. If you won’t listen to me, perhaps you’ll listen to a trained medic. Even if their medical knowledge hardly rivals the various databases I’ve downloaded in the past month alone.”

“Fine, Kay, I’ll go see a medic. But I’m sure it’s nothing.”

It figured that Cassian would run into Bodhi on the way to med-bay. He’d been too distracted to successfully evade him. For a brief moment, Cassian considered pretending that he hadn’t noticed Bodhi, but discarded the idea as less than credible. He gave a brusque nod in Bodhi’s general direction, and made as though to keep walking.

“C-Captain,” Bodhi started, then fell silent. Cassian froze. He glanced up, trying not to get lost in those deep brown eyes. Bodhi blinked nervously, then took a deep breath. “Er, C-captain, I’m, uh, I’m going foraging again.”

Cassian nodded again. “Very good,” he said, curtly.

Bodhi hesitated. “You just – you said I shouldn’t go off without telling anyone. So I’m telling you.” Bodhi swallowed, and muttered “obviously,” in a low voice.

Cassian just barely stopped himself from nodding a third time. His repertoire of non-verbal cues seemed to become limited around Bodhi, since it took most of his concentration just to keep his thoughts to himself. As a spy, he found it very disconcerting. He crossed his arms. “Thank you, Rook. Are you going on your own, or are you going with Antilles again?” _Kriff_. Why had he mentioned Antilles’s name? Now Bodhi would realize how closely Cassian had been observing him.

“O-on my own, sir. Unless, unless you want to come with me?” If Cassian weren’t such a realist, he would have thought Bodhi sounded hopeful. Which was ridiculous. Why would he want Cassian’s company? He’d practically stopped talking to Cassian as soon as he’d made even a single friend.

Still. Cassian considered. He _knew_ he shouldn’t. Kay had been right about the weight-loss, and he’d been feeling faint the last few days, since he’d hardly been able to make himself eat. He felt a flutter in his chest, and he thought again about Kay’s other comment. He really ought to be going to med-bay. And yet…

“Sorry, sir, that’s a stupid idea.” Bodhi shook his head, frowning. “If you come with me, there’s no one left in on base who knows we’ve left. Ruins the point of even telling you. Forget it.” Another pause. “Where were you heading, anyway?”

Cassian hesitated. He didn’t want Bodhi to worry. He tried to think of a believable lie.

“He is going to the med-bay. By his own volition, if he doesn’t want me to carry him there in front of all the troops.”

How had Kay managed to sneak up on him? Cassian must have really been out of it.

“Oh, are you ill? Is – is that why you didn’t eat the stew I made the other night?” Bodhi looked away. “Not that you needed a reason.”

“No, I’m fine, really,” Cassian insisted, keeping his tone light. “Kay just makes sure I check in with a medic every once in a while. I tend to forget on my own, you know how that goes.”

“I guess so. In the army – the Imperial Army, I mean – it was all very regimented. They’d summon you to a medic at odd intervals, to make sure no one let their health decline. I suppose I’ll have to be on top of that myself now, won’t I?”

Cassian nearly offered to help Bodhi remember. But that would be ridiculous – how could Cassian help Bodhi remember something he either forgot, or pretended to forget, himself?

“I can remind you,” Kay offered. “I already have one human who can’t take care of himself, I may as well take you on, too. It’s more efficient than saddling another droid with playing nanny to forgetful organics.”

“Oh. Thanks.” Bodhi looked around awkwardly.

“You may as well come with us now,” Kay continued. “Who knows what sort of residual traumas you’re suffering because of Scarif?”

“I – I suppose it won’t make a difference if I don’t go scavenging for one night,” Bodhi told the floor. “Probably no one will notice anyway,” he added quietly.

Cassian couldn’t let Bodhi speak like this. The poor man was so shy, had such self-doubts, it was killing Cassian to witness it. Couldn’t Bodhi see how much people appreciated him here? “I’m sure they’ll notice,” Cassian insisted.

Bodhi started. “Well then, I suppose I shouldn’t shirk my duties.” He gave a self-deprecating smile. “Don’t want to stop doing the one thing people like about me.”

“Rook!” But before Cassian could argue against such an absurd proposition, Bodhi was gone. It was only when he started walking again that Cassian realized his arms were still crossed.

 

 

Bodhi cursed to himself, certain he had passed that same branch in the path before, but coming from a different direction. He’d always had such a good sense of direction – he’d needed it, as a cargo pilot, finding his way around different planets for pick-ups and drop-offs. But ever since… that _thing_ in Saw’s caves, Bodhi had started to become disoriented with increasing frequency.

On top of his directional troubles, Bodhi was feeling distracted. Why had he said those stupid things to Captain Andor? Now the Captain would feel like he had to comfort Bodhi, to build up his confidence again, after all the work he’d already done for that same purpose. Bodhi had to admit, a part of him wanted the Captain to say nice things to him, even if they were obviously forced and insincere. It was probably why he’d said those stupid things in the first place.

He sighed with relief when he finally saw lights in the distance. He _had_ been going in the right direction after all, he’d just been a bit further out than he’d realized. Good. He was tired, especially burdened as he was with the heavy sack of ettel nuts he was carrying. It was just as well that he’d practically picked the tree clean, since he was unlikely to find it again.

He found Wedge hanging around the old Sith Altar outside the Temple. His face lit up with a grin when he saw Bodhi. Maybe Wedge didn’t mind him after all. Maybe he even liked Bodhi? It would be nice to have a real friend here on base, and not just someone who felt obligated to look out for him.

“Hey! Bodhi! I was wondering where you were!” Wedge loped over to Bodhi and relieved him of his sack. “Ooph, this feels like quite a haul! What’s in here, nuts or rocks?”

“Mostly nuts. I hope.” Bodhi returned Wedge’s shy grin.

“Don’t go out on your own like that,” Wedge admonished, although he didn’t sound angry. “Especially so close to sunset. You could get lost out there.”

Bodhi almost told him that he _had_ gotten lost, or at least, had gotten almost lost. But he decided against it. He didn’t want Wedge offering to come with him again just out of pity.

“Anyway,” Wedge continued, as though reading Bodhi’s thoughts, “I wouldn’t mind coming with you again next time. I learned a lot about the plant-life here the last time we went foraging.”

“It’s all available on our data-pads, you know,” Bodhi told him with a slight smirk.

“Yes, but it’s more interesting to learn together.”

Bodhi’s felt his chest fill with warmth. No matter what the others thought (no matter what _certain_ others thought… what _a_ certain other thought), Bodhi really did have a friend in Wedge.

Wedge soon distracted Bodhi from his trivial frustrations, chatting about the latest semi-authorized modifications he and his squadron were making to their X-wings. So neither of them noticed Captain Andor, standing at a distance to the other soldiers on Perimeter Duty, watching the two of them return. Even if Bodhi _had_ noticed him, he wouldn’t have been surprised to see the man’s serious expression, or his habitual scowl. If the Captain ever showed anything resembling contentment, he certainly never did so around Bodhi.

 

 

The check-up had gone well. The medic had told Cassian to eat more, to sleep more, to go easier on his PT, and to request more time on-base between dangerous missions. Cassian naturally had zero intention of taking any of that advice, especially not the latter two pieces. He’d gotten used to his limp, and while he was almost as strong as he’d been before Scarif, he was anxious to get back to peak condition, even if his peak condition wasn’t exactly the same as it had been before. He didn’t want to waste any time.

When Cassian had nearly died on Scarif, he’d had to confront the inconvenient reality that his time here was limited. He highly doubted that going to die because of malnutrition, or from the long-term effects of rushing his physical training. If he truly was going to dedicate his life to the Rebellion, as he always claimed that he did, it was a near certainty that he would die on a mission. So he might as well go on as many as possible, before the inevitable caught up with him.

After leaving the med-bay, Cassian had gone outside to check the old Sith Altar where Bodhi had cooked the previous two nights, but he’d found the place empty. Cassian figured that Bodhi hadn’t returned from his foray into the jungle yet, so he stayed outside to stand guard, even though Perimeter Duty was already covered.

The sun hung low over the jungle, and Cassian hoped it was still light enough to see under the thick canopy of vines and branches. Bodhi had only been on Yavin for a matter of days, so he couldn’t know meandering jungle paths very well. Even if he didn’t get lost, it would be easy to make a misstep in the dim light, and trip over some protruding root. If he was too injured to return, it would be nearly impossible to find him in the arboreal labyrinth, and it would only get harder as the sun dipped lower. Cassian hoped Bodhi had his comlink on him. If he didn’t see Bodhi within half a standard hour, Cassian would comm him, just to make sure he was alright. If he didn’t respond, Cassian would go off looking for the pilot himself.

But Bodhi had come back before the half-hour had run out. He was so engaged in conversation with Wedge Antilles, he hadn’t even glanced over at Cassian, or at the other rebels on guard. Cassian chided himself for having ever doubted Bodhi. The man clearly knew how to take care of himself. A small part of Cassian had to admit that he wouldn’t have exactly _minded_ going off after Bodhi, especially if Antilles hadn’t been there. And then the two of them would have been alone in the jungle…

And would have had about fifteen minutes to return to the Temple before the sun set completely. Cassian was not going to wish any danger on Bodhi, just to fulfil some stupid fantasy about him having any interest in Cassian. Bodhi had better friends now, Cassian reminded himself.

Like Antilles.

Cassian’s stomach rumbled. He glanced at the group of rebels gathering by the old Altar, already improvising a nut and meat-jerky stew. He walked past them quickly, before their soft-spoken leader could look up. Once inside, Cassian stopped at the mess hall for some leftovers from dinner, and took them back into his quarters.

“Ah good, Cassian. I’m glad to see you are taking the medic’s advice, for once.”

Cassian forced a smile. “Of course. Don’t want you to have to get used to a new human.” He paused. “Unless… you’d rather work with Rook.”

“It’s interesting, Cassian, but your heart-beat seems to become more irregular when you speak of Rook, and when you’re around him. Does he make you uncomfortable?”

“No, of course not. Why would he?” Cassian hated lying to Kay.

“You think I’m going to leave you for him, don’t you?” Kay’s voice was uncharacteristically free of sarcasm. “I can assure you, you have nothing to worry about. I was merely offering him my service as an addition to serving you. Better the Sith Lord you know, as the saying goes.”

“Is that what this is, Kay? You feel like my servant?”

“I _am_ your droid, Cassian.”

“You’re your own droid, Kay. You don’t owe me anything.”

“On the contrary, I owe you everything. You’re the one who set me free from the Empire. Anyone with half a brain would have eliminated me as soon as they had the information they needed, but, despite it being an idiotically dangerous idea, you didn’t. You even gave me free will.”

“Then use it,” Cassian snapped. “If you have free will, then you don’t _need_ to stand by me. And you’ve certainly got more valuable things to do than to play child-minder to a grown man. As you can see, I can take care of myself. Why don’t you go outside and see how that stew is coming along?”

“This childish behavior might work with other humans, but you can’t distract someone with my processors, especially with so much personal data on you. Do you really think I won’t notice that you’re holding something back, just because you’re being so unpleasant?”

Cassian sighed. “I’m sorry, Kay, I shouldn’t have snapped at you. I’m just… out of sorts. The truth is, I feel useless. The medic told me to take it easy, but I really think I should go on as many missions as I can, before –” He cut himself off.

“Before what?” Kay asked, and he almost sounded kind.

Cassian swallowed. “Before I’m killed. Like I nearly was on Scarif. I just want to be _useful_. And if I’m nothing but a burden to you…”

“I never called you a burden, Cassian.” Now there was no denying that he _did_ sound kind, and Cassian was ashamed to realize how much he craved that kindness. “Hopeless thinking is often a sign of exhaustion. I will take your tray back to the mess hall. You just get some sleep.”

“I guess I really _do_ need a child-minder,” Cassian grumbled. He wondered bitterly if Kay would help him take his boots off, and tuck him into his bunk. He had a sudden flash of memory, of being tucked in to a real bed, when he was very young – before his parents had been killed, he supposed. Before he’d been recruited to the Rebel Army, at the tender age of six. The half-formed memory shook him a little.

“Are you alright, Cassian?” Kay asked again.

Cassian swallowed, unwilling to cry in front of Kay, especially over something so trivial. “I’m fine,” he grunted. “Just tired, like you said.” He handed the tray to Kay, and forced a smile. “Thank you for being the voice of reason, as usual.”

“Of course, Cassian. _One_ of us has to be reasonable.”

Cassian grinned in relief. He felt better when Kay acted like his usual snarky self. All that gentleness was worrying.

Kay paused before exiting Cassian’s quarters. He turned back, and said softly, “Sleep well, Cassian, and wake rested.”

Cassian swallowed his dread, but before he could come up with a sarcastic response, Kay was already gone.


End file.
